Equivalent Exchange
by Lex Munro
Summary: Sequel to beginningMIDDLEend. Fuhrer Mustang muses on equivalent exchange, Ishval, Maes, and General Elric. Warning: future!fic, slashy, angst, mild language, canon character death and associated spoilers, not Brotherhood compliant.


OMG this thing is OLD. *rofl* i wrote this before Conquerer of Shamballa came out, maybe a little after i wrote beginningMIDDLEend. IDEKM. XD you can safely consider them to take place in the same not-too-distant AU. 1st-person Roy POV.

**warnings:** i guess i have to call this AU—instead of the movie and Brotherhood, pretend Ed found some way home, became a state alchemist again, and has since become an energetic carbon-copy of his father. seinen-ai. flangst. mention of war, violence, and blood. language: pg-13 (for use of the word bastard).

**pairing:** Roy/Ed with shades of past Maes/Roy.

**timeline:** call it about 16 years after the end of the first anime series.

**disclaimer:** hagane no renkinjutsushi (fullmetal alchemist) © bones et al.

**note:** i just realized why most Americans don't get the joke with everyone calling Ed a bean—in japanese, "Ed" is pronounced "Edo," and the japanese word for soybean is "edamame," so calling him "mame" or "Edo-mame" is a really lame pun that also happens to make reference to his being "low to the ground" (like a soybean plant).

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><p><strong>Equivalent Exchange<strong>

When I was young, I thought to myself, "Anything. Any price is okay. Only…please, God, never let it happen again."

Because Ishbal was a thing that should never have happened in the first place. The toll of innocents was—

_The bones of brightly-painted buildings in crumbled, smoking ruins. Little dark-skinned children, motionless, glass-eyed in the dirt. Everywhere, always, the smell of blood. Blood I spilled. Blood we all spilled._

—so high…all because of that little red stone.

"Take this ring," they said, "and you can ignore the Law of Equivalent Exchange for a while."

But it was a lie. There was a price for the power we obtained.

With a snap of my fingers, I could level city blocks. In exchange, I hear the screaming even now.

And so, naïvely, I promised God that I would give anything to keep those horrors from being repeated. I never dreamt the price would be—

_…a little girl's smile…a good man's life…everything we thought we knew…_

—so steep.

I was willing to kill to create the Philosopher's Stone. I was willing to give of myself.

If I had known my willful prayer would cost me—

_Maes!_

—so much, I would have given it up right then. I would have resigned and run off to hide in some wilderness somewhere. I would have quit Alchemy.

But the Law of Equivalent Exchange is what rules our world.

Now that I have paid a price, the power that comes from my sacrifice must go somewhere. I daren't risk it falling into any hands but mine.

I think…even now…I don't know the full price of peace. Do I still owe God more blood, more sorrow, more—

_love_

—something?

"Fuhrer."

I glance up from the paperwork I was supposed to have signed yesterday, but Riza isn't scolding me, for once. I allow a moment to be distracted by those lovely legs of hers (thank you, God, for miniskirts), then look back up to her face. "Colonel Hawkeye?"

She smiles. "The 'Boss' is here."

Ah. My distraction. My burden. My guilty pleasure. "Send him in."

As General Edward Elric saunters into my office, I think to myself that, so far, I've got God cheated. I'm just waiting for the equivalent exchange to catch up to me.

Like old times, he plants his gloved automail hand in the middle of my paperwork, demanding attention. "I wanna go somewhere for my birthday!" he announces, towering over me.

It seems like an eternity since he wasn't even as tall as my shoulder. And maybe it's the beard that he grew some time ago in the Other World, but he really resembles that captivatingly handsome bastard he called a father. Delicately, I lift his hand enough to rescue the lightly-crumpled papers. "Surely you have some leave accumulated, General Elric."

He scowls for a moment, then seizes my collar. "Look, you moron, when your lover says he wants to go somewhere on his birthday, he _means_ he wants to go _with you_."

I feign ignorance. "What? Was someone talking just now? The voice was so small, I thought an ant might have spoken…"

He doesn't look impressed. "Roy, I haven't been short for the past fifteen years."

"Maybe it wasn't an ant…maybe a bean."

"I'm not a bean, you patch-eyed jerk!"

I smile as he swears and rants and shakes me by my lapels.

Okay, so maybe I sacrificed too much, and God's just giving me back my change…

"Are you listening, Roy?"

Complete with pocket lint.

**.End.**


End file.
